


directions to memory lane

by jdphoenix



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Amnesia, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 04:01:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9959543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdphoenix/pseuds/jdphoenix
Summary: It makes sense for a superhero to have a secret identity, someone they can be so that they can have a home and a family and a life all their own. Too bad Ladybug doesn't remember hers.





	1. Chapter 1

“My lady? My lady!”

Ladybug groans. And then again when she pushes past his probing hands to sit up. She _hurts_. And she’s covered in a thin layer of sticky paint.

“Are you all right?” Chat presses. Down on the street, Whirlwind is sending a tornado at another building. It doesn’t collapse under the force—Ladybug guesses that’s only for superheroes unlucky enough to get in her way—and in the light of the streetlamps, she can see she’s left a plaid pattern all over this one. It doesn’t exactly match the polka-dots she decorated the last one with.

“Fine,” she says, and winces again when he helps her to her feet. “Or I will be once this lousy excuse for a street artist is stopped. Let’s go!”

She feels better once she’s on the move. Her head still doesn’t thank her if she spins or twists more than is strictly necessary—so no awesome flips as she leaps down into the street, boring—but her stomach stops churning and most of the paint flakes off by the time she hits the ground.

Chat’s claws around her arm stop her before she can call out for Whirlwind to cease and desist. “Stay away from those spray cans, okay?”

She shrugs him off with a smile. “I let her get me once, I won’t let it happen again, kitty cat.” She throws her yo-yo into the air. “Lucky Charm!” It flops back into her open hands, limp as a fish. “It’s a-”

“Whoopee cushion!” Chat laughs. “Are we supposed to embarrass her to death?”

Ladybug scowls at him. “Somehow I think no- look out!” She tackles him out of the way of another tornado. This one leaves a sparkly, spiral trail like Starry Night down the middle of the street.

“Aw, that one’s kinda pretty,” Chat says.

“We’ve still gotta stop her.” Ladybug climbs to her feet, scouring the street for what she might be able to use with the whoopee cushion. The only thing that lights up in her vision are the spray cans Whirlwind’s still got a death grip on. “If the akuma’s in one of those, it’s gonna be tough getting it away from her.”

“Any ideas?” Chat asks as Whirlwind paints the next building in stripes. If the mayor wakes up and sees what she’s done to his hotel, he’s gonna _flip_.

“Um,” she says. She’s having trouble thinking through the pounding in her head.

Chat looks from her to Whirlwind and back again. His ears twitch. “I’ve got it!” he says and snatches the whoopee cushion from her hand.

He sprints down the street, ducks under Whirlwind’s arm when she tries to hit him, and wraps the opening of the whoopee cushion over the nozzle of the spray can. The cushion inflates, growing bigger and bigger until it’s as big as two cars stacked on top of each other. With the polka-dot pattern, it looks like a giant ladybug has invaded the streets of Paris.

“Thank you!” Chat says, then does a leap and a flip to land squarely in the middle of the cushion.

It deflates with a long, loud burst of air, sending Whirlwind back through a shop window. Car alarms go off. What few lights weren’t on in the surrounding buildings come on. Dogs bark in the distance. Ladybug tries not to laugh.

Chat doesn’t try at all. He falls to the ground, holding his sides and laughing too hard to talk.

Ladybug shakes her head at him as she makes her way to the ruined shop. The spray cans are rolling on the pavement and she smashes the first she reaches.

“Chat!” she calls when the akuma flies out.

“Right, right,” he manages, still laughing, and tosses her the deflated cushion. On the way, it transforms back into her yo-yo and she quickly de-evilizes the little akuma before sending it on its way.

“Thanks,” she says to Chat once the street’s been cleaned up.

“Always happy to lend a paw,” he says with a gallant bow.

Ladybug’s earring beeps. She’s almost out of energy and, with things back to normal here, there’s no reason not to make a break for it.

“Gotta run!” She darts off, leaving him staring after her. Her yo-yo carriers her high over the city streets to a dark doorway, out of the way of the streetlights. Instead of the rancid, rotting smell she expects as she drops next to a pair of trashcans waiting to be wheeled out to the curb, she only smells warm dough and sugary frosting.

“Sweet surprise,” she giggles to herself. She leans back against the wall, exhausted from the fight, and closes her eyes as the magic of her powers finally fades.

“Wow! What a fight, Marinette!”

Ladybug’s eyes snap open on a giant, flying bug-thing hovering right in front of her face. With the building behind her, she scrambles up onto the trashcans, ungainly without her magic.

“What are you?” she demands, using the purse that took the place of her yo-yo to bat at the creature. “Some new minion of Hawk Moth’s sent to attack me?”

The bug swoops this way and that, avoiding the bag, until finally falling back. Its big, unsettling eyes look Ladybug over from head to toes and back again.

“Um,” it says in that same, squeaky voice, “Marinette?”

Ladybug spins, putting the building behind her again so she can scan the area for threats. There’s no one there, just lights from a few police officers on the other side of the park.

“I don’t know who this Marinette is, but she’s not gonna help you steal my Miraculous!”

“Ohhhh, boy,” the bug moans. Then it swoops in to grab Ladybug’s cheeks in its tiny little appendages. She goes cross-eyed trying to meet its big eyes. “ _You’re_ Marinette, Marinette. And I’m not here to steal your Miraculous! I’m here to help you protect it! Don’t you remember anything?”

Ladybug bats it away and slides down so she can have some solid ground beneath her feet. “Of course I remember. I’m Ladybug, protector of Paris.”

The little bug clings to the edge of the trashcan, shaking its bulbous head like that hit really hurt it. Ladybug feels a pang of sympathy.

 _Only_ because she had a bad hit herself today. Not because she believes one of Hawk Moth’s insects is really her friend.

“And you’re also Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” the bug insists. “You can’t be Ladybug all the time, can you? You have to live somewhere and go to school and have a life!”

“Protecting Paris is a full time job,” Ladybug says, but she doesn’t sound as confident as she did before. Where does she live when she’s not swinging from rooftops? And, for that matter…

She lifts her hands, catching the light from the streetlamp behind her. No gloves. No yo-yo. No mask when she touches her face.

She knew the beeping in her earrings meant the magic was fading, but she doesn’t remember knowing what that meant. She leans against the doorway. She doesn’t recognize her own hands and she can’t seem to figure out what her face is supposed to look like without a mask.

“I’m Ladybug,” she says softly.

“You are,” the bug says, its voice gentle. She doesn’t think one of Hawk Moth’s minions would sound so nice, even if it was faking. “But you’re also a normal girl.”

“Named Marinette.” The name sounds wrong in her mouth. Too soft. Too normal. How can the protector of Paris be _normal_?

“That’s right!” The bug swoops off the trashcan, bright and smiling.

“And you are?” Ladybug asks. If this thing really is her co-protector of the Miraculous, she should probably know her name.

“I’m Tikki. I’m a Kwami. Basically, I go where the Miraculous goes and help you transform.”

“Right. So you’re kind of a flying, talking user manual for superpowers?”

Tikki makes a face, one of her eyes squinting until it’s almost invisible while the other stays wide. “Um, kind of?” She shakes her head—and her whole body along with it—and comes in closer. “Do you remember this place, Marinette?”

Now it’s Ladybug’s turn to make a face. She gets the idea Tikki’s using her name just to remind her what it is, which she supposes is nice and all, but it only reminds her that she _doesn’t_ remember it.

She looks around at what little she can see in the dark. It does look familiar; did she fight an akuma here once?

“Come on.” Tikki grabs her hand and drags her towards the street, spinning her around at the curb so she can see … a bakery. Well, that explains why the trash smells so good. “Anything?” 

Ladybug shakes her head. “Do I love their macaroons?”

Tikki sighs. “You _live_ here, Marinette. Your parents own that bakery.”

Ladybug’s stomach cramps and she doesn’t think it’s from hunger. Her parents. She has _parents_. She doesn’t even know their names. Will she recognize them when she sees them?

She thinks of her face and the mystery of what it looks like without her mask on; probably not, then.

She looks up at the dark windows. “It’s late. Do you think they’re worried about me?”

Tikki rubs up against her neck and cheek. Ladybug thinks she’s cuddling her. “They love you a lot, Marinette, but they don’t know you’re Ladybug. If they’re even awake at all, they think you’re sleeping soundly in your bed.”

“Right. So we have to sneak in.”

It’s easy, with Tikki’s help. Ladybug’s snuck into plenty of places, and Tikki knows her way around the bakery. It’s just that it feels weird. This is her house—the key in her purse works on the front door, no trouble—but it feels like she’s breaking and entering. Like any second some angry old lady who she doesn’t recognize and who doesn’t recognize her is gonna jump out and start screaming “thief!” at the top of her lungs. How would that look? The protector of Paris lurking around like a cat burglar.

That happened to Chat once, didn’t it? Copycat stole the Mona Lisa while pretending to be him. The public wasn’t all that understanding in his case, and that time it was actually another person. How much worse is it gonna be if the real Ladybug gets caught breaking the law?

“Hey.”

She yelps. Loudly. Embarrassingly loudly; she’s a superhero, for goodness’ sake. But a very large man has suddenly appeared in a doorway, backlit by a lamp in the room behind him.

“What are you doing up so early?” he asks.

“Um, um…”

“You were studying!” Tikki hisses from behind her shoulder.

“I was-”

“Marinette,” the man says, a warning in his voice that makes that cramping even worse. “Were you out getting Ladybug footage with Alya again?”

“Yes!” Tikki says.

“Yes?”

The man steps out of the doorway, letting Ladybug get a real look at him. He doesn’t look so scary now that she can see his gentle smile. “We’ve told you, no running off after the next big Ladybug scoop after midnight. And not after ten on school nights.”

“Sorry?”

A large hand rests on her shoulder. “Well, as long as you’re sorry and you won’t do it again…”

“I won’t,” she says quickly, since it sounds like that’s what he’s looking for.

“Good. Then I see no reason to bother your mother about it. So long as you make it to school on time and don’t fall asleep during any of your classes.”

“Will do! I mean, won’t do. I mean-”

He pushes her gently towards the stairs. “Just get some sleep while you can. I’ll bring you something to wake you up in a couple hours.”

She stumbles up the stairs two at a time, letting Tikki drag her up and up until they reach an attic door. “This is your room,” Tikki says, “we’ll be safe here.” Ladybug barely hears her. She doesn’t even bother to turn on the light (Tikki takes care of that). Just shuts the door beneath her and sits heavily on top of it, breathing hard.

“That was my dad, wasn’t it?”

Tikki flutters nervously in front of her. “Yeah, it was. You don’t remember him at all?”

No. No, she doesn’t. Her own father and she wouldn’t have known him from Hawk Moth.

She half-crawls, half-runs to the bed and climbs in, still with all her clothes on. She just wants to sleep and be done.

“Marinette-”

“Stop calling me that!” she snaps, way too loudly for four in the morning.

Tikki looks scared. And Ladybug’s scared too.

But that’s wrong. Ladybug’s not supposed to be scared. She’s a hero. A hero who just wants to crawl under the covers and hide from her own life. Who doesn’t even remember her own name.

Her eyes start to hurt, matching the pain in her skull.

Tikki nuzzles her cheek again, pushing her gently down onto the pillows. “That’s okay. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Master Fu will know just what to do,” Tikki says, “I’m sure of it.”

Ladybug winces as Tikki tugs at her hair. She was totally ready to go when the little kwami told her to sit back down and started fussing over her. “So tell me again why I’m going to school instead of to see him.”

Tikki swoops into her personal space, an angry look in those big eyes of hers. “Because you promised your dad you wouldn’t be late today.”

Tom, Ladybug thinks. His name is Tom. And her mother is Sabine. She meets her own eyes in the mirror, wondering which of them she gets them from, then her nose, her chin, her hair…

“What’s wrong?” Tikki hovers at her shoulder, clutching a white and red polka-dot scarf.

Ladybug shoves away her self-pitying thoughts. With any luck, this Fu person really will be able to fix her up, good as new, and she won’t have to wonder about any of this anymore.

She gives a lock of her hair a tug. “It’s just … weird.”

Tikki’s sigh blows her bangs as she carefully positions the scarf around her neck. “I know it’s not the way you usually wear it, but having it down will help hide me. That way I can help _you_ while you’re at school!” She burrows into the scarf. In the mirror, with Ladybug’s loose hair shadowing her and the spots on the scarf, she’s practically invisible.

Figuring that means she’s finally free to get moving, Ladybug grabs the purse and book bag Tikki already set out for her. “It’s not that,” Ladybug says, climbing gingerly down the stairs. “It’s _blue_.”

“Yeah,” Tikki says slowly. “What color should it be?”

Ladybug shrugs. “I dunno. I just never realized it was blue before.”

Tikki laughs. “You’ve seen pictures of yourself, haven’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but they’re not in color.” When Tikki doesn’t respond, Ladybug adds, “I can’t see colors. Except when I’m using my lucky charm.” And even then it’s just the red and black of the magic cluing her in to what she’s supposed to do. “I guess that’s just a Ladybug thing though, not a Marinette thing.” She tries to take solace in that. She can’t remember seeing colors before, but she obviously knows what they all are and isn’t having trouble with her more colorful vision in the light of day. That’s something.

Her good luck must be back because she doesn’t see her parents on her way out, just a few family photos she can’t remember at all. After that it’s just a short run to school, where she tries to keep her head down and blend in with the crowd.

“Now remember,” Tikki whispers. “Your name is Marinette.”

“I _know_ ,” Ladybug snaps.

“Know what?” An arm snakes through hers, pulling her into someone’s side.

From her opposite shoulder, Tikki squeaks. “That’s Alya! Your best friend!”

“That … you’re my best friend?” Ladybug says.

Alya rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling so hopefully that wasn’t too stupid a thing to say. “Well, who else is fabulous enough to be your BFF?” She sweeps her hair over her shoulder dramatically, then bursts out laughing. “I’m loving the hair by the way.”

“Thanks.” Ladybug tries to resist the urge to tug on it again as Alya pulls her into the courtyard.

She does move a little closer to her side though. She’s not scared of the crowds of students, it’s just … very intimidating having so many people look at her like they know her when she doesn’t recognize them at all.

She focuses on her footsteps instead, keeping up with Alya and hopefully not giving any sign that she has no idea which classroom they’re heading for until they’re walking through the door. Once Alya lets her go, Ladybug scans the faces behind desks and clustered by windows while following Tikki’s instruction to take a seat in the second row. She recognizes a few of them, but not as classmates. They’re all formerly akumatized civilians as far as she’s concerned, nothing more.

“But seriously, girl,” Alya says, “what’s up?”

“Nothing. Just hoping today goes by fast.”

“Ugh. Me too. It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for _some people_.” That last is aimed at a pair of girls just stepping through the door. Ladybug doesn’t need Tikki to tell her the blonde is Chloe Bourgeois. That girl’s been in the middle of so many akuma fights she should have a “get kidnapped five times, get out of the sixth one free” punch card.

“Oh!” Chloe says, flipping her hair. “Were you talking about _me_? And why wouldn’t you, when your own lives are so utterly-” She cuts off, and there’s a brief moment of silence followed by loud, braying laughter. Ladybug grits her teeth against the noise. “Oh my God! What did you do to your hair?”

The room goes quiet after the question. Everyone’s waiting for Marinette to answer, but Ladybug has no idea what Marinette would say—and Tikki’s no help, with all eyes on Ladybug, it’s too risky for her to speak up—so she just stays quiet and hopes the bell rings soon.

“I think it looks great.” The boy coming down the middle aisle shoots Ladybug a grin as he passes her by. “Really nice, Marinette.”

She recognizes him too. Adrien Agreste’s been involved in a few akuma attacks himself. And, remembering the photos all over Marinette’s walls, he’s a model.

“Thank you, Adrien,” she says. “That means a lot coming from you, I’m sure you’ve met all kinds of hair stylists.”

“Oh yeah,” he says, taking the seat ahead of her. “And I’m sure Filipe Cousteau would love to get his hands on your hair.”

Ladybug has no idea who Filipe Cousteau is or whether she should, but Chloe looks like she’s about to bust a blood vessel, so she leans forward and rests her chin on her hand, trying to look interested in the idea. “Really? You think?”

Next to her, Alya makes a strangled noise at the same moment Tikki squeaks a faint, “ _Crush!_ ”

That’s right. The reason she’s got photos of Adrien all over her walls is that she’s got a crush on him. And, if Alya’s look is anything to go by, this isn’t how she normally talks to him. Which begs the question: how does someone talk to their crush?

“Oh yeah. The color’s really great,” Adrien says. “I’ve always thought so.”

The answer comes to her in a flash and she’s gotta fight to hold back a triumphant grin. “Oh? Because I’ve always felt kinda _blue_ about it myself.”

There’s another moment of silence, again broken by Adrien, only this time it’s because he laughs. “Good one, Marinette.”

The bell rings just then and the teacher sweeps in, giving the perfect cover for Alya to groan. “What the heck was that, girl?”

Ladybug shrugs. “What do you mean?”

“Ladies!” the teacher says. “Class has begun; you can finish your conversation later.”

Alya slides back to her side of the bench. “Yes, Mme Bustier,” Alya says respectfully while Ladybug tries to look appropriately chagrined.

Class goes on. Ladybug has nothing to compare it to but she guesses it goes the same as every other day. Except, maybe, for Alya sneaking looks at her all the way through. She really hopes that’s not the start of something.

 

 

\-------

 

 

Chloe gets her revenge in science.

“Mme Mendeleiev?” Chloe calls out the second class begins. She’s practically dancing in her seat, her hand waving like she’s trying to direct air traffic. “Isn’t the first rule of chemistry safety?”

“That’s the first rule of all scientific disciplines, yes.”

“Then shouldn’t students be required to remove clothing that could easily catch on fire? Like, say, scarves?”

“That _rat_ ,” Alya gasps.

Inside Ladybug’s scarf, Tikki starts shaking. Ladybug never much liked Chloe—that whole Antibug thing was way over the line—but now she _really_ doesn’t like her. If she weren’t a superhero, she’d be thinking a word a whole lot worse than “rat” about Chloe Bourgeois right now.

“That’s absolutely right,” Mme Mendeleiev says. “Is anyone- ah, yes, Marinette. I’m afraid it’ll have to come off. Safety first!”

Ladybug slowly removes the scarf, careful to keep Tikki hidden in its folds as she sets it on her book bag. Chloe and Sabrina are staring, craning their necks to see … something. It’s definitely not Tikki, since both of them are still looking at Ladybug when she sits back up.

“What?” she mouths. Both their heads snap around so fast she expects to hear their necks crack. She turns to Alya, only to find her looking at her strangely too.

Or maybe it’s not strangely. Maybe people always look at her like this. If they do, she’s beginning to understand why Marinette decided to become a superhero. Yeesh.

“What?” she asks Alya, who she realizes is looking at her neck. She rubs at it, suddenly afraid Tikki’s somehow still sitting there, exposed. But she’s not, she’s safe and secure inside the scarf.

“I’ll tell you after class,” Alya promises as the lesson begins.

Ladybug sighs and slouches in her seat, hoping if she sinks low enough she’ll go unnoticed and no one will realize she has no idea what they’re even studying right now. Chemistry, she guesses, but that’s not a lot to go on.

Her back and butt don’t thank her for it, but it works. After what she’s sure—memory or no—is the longest class of her life, the bell finally rings and she hasn’t been noticed again. She breathes a sigh of relief.

“Okay, so,” Alya says, catching Ladybug’s hand before she can stand. A few seconds pass while the rest of the class starts filing out. Once they’re mostly alone, Alya leans closer to say, “Chloe was checking to see if you’ve got a hickey.”

“What! That’s crazy!” she says. And then she realizes she really doesn’t know if it is. Maybe Marinette is the kind of girl who’s always covering up hickeys. Ladybug already knows that even though she keeps focused on saving the day over romance, Marinette is hardcore crushing on one of her classmates. Who’s to say she’s not doing more?

Tikki. Tikki will know. Ladybug reaches for her scarf, suddenly desperate to have her reminders and reassurances.

“I gotta say, I was kind of wondering too. You’re not giggling over Adrien, you changed your hair … what’s up with you, girl?”

“Nothing! I just-” Ladybug’s fingertips brush the tough exterior of her book bag. She looks down. No scarf. “Oh no.” She drops to her knees, hunting under the lab bench, all over the floor. “No no no _no_.”

“What’s wrong?” Alya demands.

“My scarf’s gone.”

“Oh. That brat Chloe probably took it.”

“Chloe!” Ladybug’s up off the floor in a heartbeat. That’s it, she definitely hates that girl. “She’s gonna pay for this.” She snatches up her book bag and marches out the door.

“Uh, Marinette?”

Ladybug ignores her, which turns out to be a mistake. She’s made it halfway across the courtyard—and halfway to Chloe, who’s laughing with Sabrina by the doors and holding Ladybug’s scarf—when Nino and Adrien pass her by. They each grab one of her arms and lift her right off the ground.

“What?” she asks, wondering if this is part of some akuma attack. Should she fight back? Go along with them to see what happens?

“This is for your own good, Marinette,” Nino says.

Adrien shrugs when she looks his way. “I’m not really sure what’s going on.”

And then they’re back in the science lab and Ladybug’s being set down in one of the chairs.

“Thanks, guys,” Alya says. “Now shoo. But not too far.”

Adrien at least looks just as confused as Ladybug feels while he and Nino move to stand at the door. Like guards. This is not looking good.

“Alya,” she begins, hoping she’ll somehow manage to hit on the magic words that will get her best friend to stop this.

“Marinette,” Alya says, wheeling another chair over so they can sit face to face. “I need you to tell me the truth right now, okay?”

Ladybug’s hands curl into fists on her knees. That’s really not something she can do, even if she wants to.

“What’s going on with you today?”

Ladybug looks away. There’s no good way to answer that.

“Marinette, come on. I need you to tell me. The truth.”

“Nothing,” she lies because it’s better than keeping quiet, not because she actually expects to be believed.

“Come on.” Alya taps at her phone. “You are displaying four of the five warning signs that your friend has been akumatized. You gotta give me more than that.”

Ladybug’s jaw nearly hits the floor. “I am _not_ an _akuma_!”

Alya starts ticking off signs on her fingers. “Strange behavior. Change in appearance.”

“I changed my hair! I didn’t grow wings!”

“New obsession with fashion accessories.”

“Chloe _stole_ my scarf!”

Alya grins triumphantly, lifting another finger. “Anger at Chloe Bourgeois.”

Ladybug tips her her head back towards the ceiling and lets the chair spin around beneath her.

“Alya,” Adrien says, sounding genuinely worried. “Are you really sure about this? I mean-”

“All that’s left,” Alya says in a knowing and superior tone, “is a recent dramatic life change.”

Ladybug bites her lip. She’s pretty sure sudden and near-complete amnesia counts.

“Yeah,” Nino says, taking Alya’s phone from her hand. “But you wrote this list. It’s from the LadyBlog.”

Alya snatches the phone back. “That doesn’t mean it’s wrong! But there is obviously something wrong with Marinette.” She meets Ladybug’s eyes. “You gonna fess up?”

“Alya, I’m telling you, there’s _nothing_ going on!”

Alya rolls her eyes and starts tapping away at her phone. “Sure. You leave me no choice, Marinette. I’m putting an SOS on the LadyBlog.”

“What good’s that gonna do?” Nino asks. Ladybug doesn’t bother, she’s a little too busy feeling her stomach drop out because she’s already figured it out.

“We know Ladybug reads the blog. She’ll see the post and come to check it out. Problem solved.”

“Whoa, no way,” Nino says, leaning over her shoulder to see what she’s typing. “You really think it’s that serious?”

Alya gives him a look, and he gulps.

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s that serious.”

Ladybug tries not to be too obvious about looking for escape routes. And she’s not the only one.

“Uh, guys?” Adrien asks. “I wanna help—really,” he adds, meeting her eyes, “but I’ve got this shoot tonight and I’m on a tight feeding schedule so-”

“Go.” Alya waves him off without even looking at him. “Enjoy your lunch. We’ll keep little miss akumatized here so she can’t cause any trouble.”

“I have not been akumatized!” Ladybug snaps.

All three of them wince. She’s guessing that’s not how Marinette would say it.

“Good luck, guys,” Adrien says and darts out the door. _After_ giving her a worried look.

Marinette’s probably gonna hate her for causing trouble with Adrien. Which is weird because she _is_ Marinette. So will she be hating herself for this? Or will she understand it wasn’t her fault?

She rubs her forehead, right at the spot where she’s developing a migraine. “If I was an akuma,” she mutters, “I’d make you pay for this.”

“Exactly what an akuma would say,” Alya says knowingly. Ladybug tries not to groan and instead distracts herself by spinning in her chair, counting rotations to see how long it takes before she gets dizzy. It’s not as if there’s anything else to do; it’s not like Ladybug’s gonna show up to save her.

Ugh. What does Marinette see in these people anyway? It’s never this hard being Chat Noir’s friend.

The door swings open, and Ladybug whirls quickly around, hoping it’s a teacher come to save her.

“Someone ask for a cat-sultation?”

A wide grin splits Ladybug’s face. Speak of the devil. Memory or no, she’s almost positive she’s never been happier to see Chat Noir in her _life_.

 


End file.
